


Survivor's Guilt

by SmittyJaws



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/pseuds/SmittyJaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was no stranger to death. But that didn't make it any easier. Written for fanfic100 prompt "030. Death."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survivor's Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Warning for mentions of depression. In contrast to my last two more light-hearted stories, this is a bit of a darker one. I promise I’ll write something happier for Mike next time.

Mike Yates was no stranger to death. How could he be, being in the military?

And yet... every time a comrade fell, every friend he lost, every letter he had to send back to another set of parents who'd lost a son (or in a few cases, daughter)... it never got any easier.

Contrary to what one might think, serving on the home front didn't make things any less difficult than serving overseas. Especially when many of the enemies he was tasked to defend the country from were't even human. This meant that he and his men had far less chance of survival than many others might have.

So how did he manage to somehow keep outliving the others? He prided himself on being an officer who would fight alongside his men, not behind them, and frankly, it wasn't like he was particularly hardy. He had heard it said by many of the men around the base that it looked like he would blow away in a stiff breeze, and he was aware of the fact that next to other soldiers such as Sgt Benton, he wasn't as physically substantial by comparison. So why was he still alive?

There were times when he would wake up at night from dreadful nightmares, shaking and covered in sweat, feeling utterly inadequate. Why was his life any more important than theirs? Why hadn't he died alongside them? Instead, he was left behind to bury them.

There were definite times when he wished he could stop beating the odds and just join them already. At least then he could stop feeling this crushing guilt at still being alive.

**Author's Note:**

> _“The years have passed, but I’m still around_   
> _I’ve defied the odds and the body count_   
> _…I never asked to be an unsung hero…” - Unsung Hero - Area-7 (my partial inspiration for this fic)_


End file.
